


Tethered

by clevernessfound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Implied Violence, NSFW, Smut, cursing, lil bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clevernessfound/pseuds/clevernessfound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a demon attack that takes the lives of your family, you are rescued by Sam and Dean who explain to you that you're a prophet of the lord. The Winchester brothers whisk you away, incorporating you into the hunter's lifestyle as you await your work as a prophet to begin. Things become even more complicated when the archangel Michael appears, claiming you as his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tethered

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! So I really wanted to write this story because frankly, there's not enough Michael love out there. It should be noted that I didn't really write this in a specific time, so it's kind of a stand alone from what's canon in Supernatural. Also, Michael's vessel in this is up to your interpretation, so picture him as you want ;) I've kind of left this open for a sequel, and I'm slowly building a story line for that, so if there's interest, let me know!

It wasn’t long ago that you were happy. Really it had only been a few years since you had seen your family, since you had kissed your parents good night and climbed the stairs of your home, settling in for the night. The next day you were due for your college orientation, and you were nothing but a bundle of nerves and excitement, ready to start the next stage of your life.

But as the events of that night ensured, the next stage of your life was nothing you had expected it to be.

You were awoken by the sounds of banging and shouting coming from downstairs. At first you shrugged it off as another fight between your parents, their marriage hadn't been exactly tranquil and it had deteriorated even more in the past few months with all the college hubbub.

You left your room for Charlie’s, your younger brother. He was always distressed when your parents fought, and it was typically left to you to cheer him up, even when you didn’t feel so buoyant yourself.

The scene that greeted you in the hallway was branded in your brain forever, like a stain that just wouldn’t come out. Even now, it occasionally greeted you as you closed your eyes to sleep, a permanent reminder of what you had lost.

A tall, muscular man had your brother, bloodied and beaten, pressed against the wall. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to escape the horror that was playing out before you, but all you could do was stare in terror as the man took your brother’s life, as the light went out of his eyes. Noticing your presence, the man had turned to you, his eyes totally black. Even more terrifying was his smile, predatory and sharp, reflecting the sick pleasure he took in what he had just done.

The black eyed man faced you for a moment, examining you with the same grin on his face. You were immobile, too shocked to do anything but stare at the monster in front of you.  
Then came the Winchesters, bounding in and saving the day. Dean had gutted the man and Sam had scooped you into his arms, carrying you to safety. You had lain in the backseat of the Impala as the brothers explained the situation to you. That man had been a demon, coming to take you because you were a prophet of the lord, at least according to their angel friend, Castiel. Sam had been very kind and gentle when he explained to you that your parents had been killed in the attack as well, as if that hadn’t been obvious to you.

Without uttering a word in reply, you had turned on your side and slipped into a deep sleep.

Over the next two years Sam and Dean had integrated you into their lives. They had stationed you at the bunker, and taken care of you as you recuperated from your tragedy.  
The reason the demons came for you that night was still a mystery, and even Cas didn’t possess the answers. The angel had termed you an “inactive” prophet, and explained that typically you would replace an “active” one as soon as she or he died. The twist was that there were no active prophets, at least as far as Cas knew.

It was a frustrating situation, and one that left you struggling for answers.So, you spent your days researching for both the Winchesters and yourself. The books didn’t yield much on prophets but gave you plenty of information about nearly everything else, and in your time with the brothers, you had made yourself quite the expert on lore. You even liked to think that they relied on you to a degree.

So far, they hadn’t taken you out on an actual case, but they did agree to give you some training, for self defense and all. You thought you might need it, for when all this prophet hoohah actually came to fruition. In the meantime, however, you spent your days in your books, educating yourself on all things supernatural, hoping something that could solve your prophet problem would appear.

One fall day you woke up to find the bunker empty. Figuring Sam and Dean had picked up a case, you shrugged it off and searched for something to occupy your time with. You settled on sifting your way through piles of books, trying to get through more research. After only twenty minutes or so, however, the words on the pages in front of you began to blur, and you found yourself reading the same lines over and over. Sighing, you pushed the books away and rubbed your eyes tiredly.

Deciding it was way too early to attempt anything academic, you set your mind to a simpler task.

You grabbed your Springfield from your room and headed down to the gun range, looking forward to the simple rhythm of firing the gun repeatedly, feeling the recoil jar your shoulder again and again.

Dean always liked to tease you for using a rifle, since you would probably never find a use for it in a real hunt, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying it all the same. You fired round after round, feeling the remarkable exhilaration that came when each bullet exited the barrel, releasing a barrage of sound. After a while you stopped, and squinted, examining the marks the bullets left on the target. You hadn’t hit any of the inner rings, and several were outside of the target completely.

You sighed in defeat, “Well that’s what practice is for, I guess.”

“A positive outlook.”came a voice behind you.

Whipping around, you came face to face with a young, handsome man wearing a grey cotton shirt, and dark jeans. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, seeming totally at ease, a stark contrast to your shock.

You lifted your gun, pointing it directly at him, “Who the hell are you?” you asked.

The man smiled at you, seemingly amused by your defensive position.

“I’m here to protect you.” He answered calmly.

“What?”

Maybe the guy was a messed up nutcase, you thought, and had just wandered in through an unlocked door. Or maybe he was an axe murderer. In any case, you fervently hoped you could get him out of your home as soon as possible.

He stepped forward, and in response you cocked your gun in warning. The man halted, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of peace.

“My name is Michael.”

You raised an eyebrow, “You gonna elaborate on that?”

Tucking his hands in his pockets, still seemingly unconcerned with the deadly weapon pointed at his face, Michael eyed you up and down, a small smirk creeping onto his face. His appraisal made you uneasy, he seemed almost too perceptive, which gave you the ridiculous urge to cover yourself.

Deciding to look him over in return, you took in the hard edges of his face and the intensity of his eyes. Definitely more serial killery than madman. The stranger had a quiet power about him, a sense of confidence that couldn’t be faked, which only served to set your nerves on edge even more.

“Answer me!” you shouted. Finger on the trigger, you were ready to blast this guy away.

Michael placed one finger on shapely lips, “Shhh.” He murmured, “You have nothing to worry about, believe me.”

“Just like I’m supposed to believe that you’re here to protect me?” you questioned suspiciously.

“Yes.”He gestured around him, “How else would I find my way in here?”

You were still unconvinced, “There’s lots of answers to that.”

Michael chuckled, “I suppose that’s true. Still, I urge you to trust me.”

For a moment you faced each other in silence. Michael still maintained an infuriatingly calm presentation, while you felt as if you were standing at the edge of a precipice, deciding whether to jump or run far, far from the edge. Finally, you lowered your gun, reckoning that you were quick enough get back into shooting position if necessary.

Michael’s eyes sought yours, his deep gaze seeming to invade your mind, reading your thoughts. It was permeating, and you felt naked before him. A flush crept up on your face, coloring your cheeks.

Michael was now openly grinning at you, your discomfort seeming to charm him, “Come here.”

You stepped forward, knowing it was stupid, but your mind had become hazy, almost trancelike, smothering the warning bells that rang in the back of your mind.

Michael traced a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Let me give you some instruction in using that gun.” He said.

You nodded in agreement, and the two of you turned to face the target, Michael positioning himself behind you. Michael muttered instructions, as he wrapped your arms around you adjusting the position of your rifle. You listened silently, but obediently moved when he told you. His breath fanned against your neck, creating a delicious sensation on your skin.

You bit back a moan as you felt him press himself closer to you, enveloping you in his warmth. Fighting the urge to lean back into him, you felt your concentration on your shooting slip.

“Are you paying attention?” Michael suddenly murmured at your ear.

That pulled you out of your haze.

“What am I doing?” you asked, pulling away.

“Shooting, and not very well I might add.”

You turned and faced him, suddenly frantic “I don’t even know who you are, and I’m standing here in your arms with a weapon in my hands.”

“Shh, shh.” Michael crooned. He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer. Lifting one finger, he trailed it down your face.

“Such a fretful little human.” Michael murmured.

You lifted your eyes to him, waiting for the big reveal, but he hadn’t seemed to realize his slip up.

“Human?” you asked.

Before Michael could open his mouth in reply, you heard voices out in the main area of the bunker.

“Hey! Anyone home?” you heard Dean shout.

Michael gave you a small smile, then disappeared before your eyes.

You had only a moment to get yourself back into shooting position, before Dean burst into the room.

Turning to him, you smiled, just a tad too brightly, “Hey Dean!”

He raised his eyebrows at you, and gave a wave, “Hey, we got grub.”

“Great! I’ll be right there.” You replied.

It was another week before Michael showed up again. This time you were sitting in your room, in nothing but underwear and a t shirt, watching TV. When Michael appeared you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Jesus! Don’t do that!” you scolded.

“I’m sorry.” Michael apologized in his ever calm tone, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“Just checking up on you.”

“Because that’s what archangels do right? At least for their prophets.”

Michael didn’t look surprised at your revelation, which ticked you off a bit, “So you finally thought it through?” he asked.

“Finally?” you asked, slightly offended.

Michael seated himself at the edge of your bed, “To be honest I thought you would know at our first meeting. You humans are slower at recognition than I first believed.”

Unable to summon a suitable reply, you settled for, “Get off my bed.”

Michael chuckled at your petulant tone, but did as you asked.

“So, are you going to explain why you’re here?” you questioned. At this point you just really wanted answers.

“I’m here to protect you.” Michael stated.

You sighed, “You’re beginning to sound like a broken record. What are you protecting me from?”

“Broken record? I’m not sure I-“

You waved a hand, “Don’t worry about that, just explain. Please.”

“Very well. But there’s not much to explain.”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I am the archangel assigned to guard you. In times of great danger, I come and eliminate any threats to you.”

“Alright, that much I get. But why were you at the gun range with me? I’m not the best shot in the world, but I think I’m safe from pointing the barrel in the wrong direction.”

Michael looked at you, capturing your eyes with his, and once again you felt that strange magnetism that had entranced you last week.

You pulled away from his gaze, “Stop that!”

“Stop what? Looking at you? That makes conversation difficult doesn’t it?”

You glared at him, “You know what I mean.”

Michael smirked, “Very well. You’re not exactly an ordinary prophet, being with the Winchesters, who could put you in danger at any given time, so I thought it was time to reveal myself to you.”

“Well, you’ve done that. So, do you leave now?”you inquired hopefully.

Michael cocked his head, “Are you so desperate to rid yourself of me?”

“I’ve learned that where angels go, trouble follows.”

Michael placed one hand on your knee, its warmth seeming to chill the rest of your body. You stared at him, waiting with bated breath for his next words.

“My dear human, I’ll always be here with you.”

Over the next two months, Michael popped in and out several times, always when the Winchesters were out, of course. You still didn’t understand why he bothered visiting you, but you found you enjoyed his company all the same.

You wouldn’t have believed it when you first met him, but it turned out that Michael was quite the conversationalist. He loved to impart stories on you that had stewed in his mind for eons, and you loved answering his questions about humanity. He had an adorable confusion about many aspects of human life, which surprised you.

“You’ve been around for millennium.” You said one day, “Wouldn’t you know everything there is to know about my species?”

The angel scoffed, “I hardly spend all my time on this earth, walking among lesser beings.”

You rolled your eyes at this, “Yes well, us lesser beings managed to invent a few devices that have managed to confound even a great celestial being such as yourself.”

You gestured toward the laptop on the table that Michael was currently frowning at.

Michael glared at you, then protested, “This is a useless contraption, meant only to cause humans to while away countless hours in the search of entertainment.”

Laughing you conceded, “Can’t argue with that last part, but it’s hardly useless.”

The angel folded his arms, “Prove it.”

It occurred to you that angels might just be the most petulant creatures in existence. Leaning over Michael’s shoulder, you tapped away at the keyboard, opening your email.

“See, this is a messaging system. People use it all the time at work, at home, at…”

You trailed off when you noticed Michael was no longer paying attention.

“Michael..”you prodded.

“Why do you keep my presence a secret from the Winchesters?”

“What?”you asked, flabbergasted at the sudden change of topic.

Michael looked up at you, making you aware of your close proximity to him. His scent invaded your nostrils, and his body heat suddenly seemed to envelope you. You blushed slightly, prompting the angel to give you a slow smile. 

That was another twist in your messed up story of a life. You were incredibly attracted to Michael. An archangel. Who was technically your protector. Really it was a development that would put most soap operas to shame. 

After your initial meeting, you had shrugged off the strange arousal that the angel seemed to elicit in you as part of the angel mojo he had worked over you. But as your relationship strengthened and found some semblance of normalcy, you discovered that wasn't the case. 

And as for his part, Michael was friendly with you, but he wasn't an overly affectionate guy. Though, through teasing smiles, lingering touches, and occasional innuendos Michael had made you aware that he knew of your attraction to him. It was a sticky situation, at least for you. 

Pulling away before you found some way to embarrass yourself, you seated yourself next to him at the table and tried to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Michael gazed at you, “Are you ashamed of your relationship with me?”

“Of course not!” you protested. In truth, you had come to value your friendship with Michael over the past few weeks. 

“Then why are you keeping me your dirty little secret?” Michael asked softly.

“Michael, you're the one who only shows up when they’re not here.”

“Because it is not my place to reveal myself, it is yours.”

You didn’t have a reply to that. In truth, you were frightened. You knew the Winchesters wouldn’t approve of an archangel hanging around you, but you didn’t want to give Michael up. The amount of friends you had totaled to four, Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Michael. You didn’t think you could bear it if you were made to choose a side.

Michael leaned over you, eyes glittering angrily, placing his hands on either side of your chair, “I am an angel of the lord, a warrior of heaven, I am not meant to sneak around like an adolescent boy afraid of angering his sweetheart’s parents.”

Did that make you his sweetheart? Staring at the practically steaming celestial being in front of you, you figured you’d ponder that later.

“Michael, I don’t know if I can tell them.”

The angel’s eyes flashed, prompting you to blurt out, “I’m afraid I’ll lose you.”

That statement took the angel aback, “What?”

You placed your hands over Michael’s, gently tracing circles over his tightened knuckles. It was an intimate gesture, and you weren't sure how Michael would take it, but he didn't pull away.

Finally, you met his gaze, “Sam and Dean wouldn’t approve of our friendship. Surely, you know that. I’m afraid they would make me choose, them or you, and I can’t-“

You were mortified to discover that tears were welling up in your eyes. Being emotional was one thing, but crying in front of a celestial being, that was embarrassing. To your surprise, you felt fingers tilt your chin up, making you meet Michael’s eyes. You were amazed to see the empathy that lit his eyes.

“My little human”, he began “You will never lose me.”

Without thinking, you launched yourself into the angel’s arms. After a moment, you felt him embrace you in return.

You didn’t see Michael for another few weeks after that encounter. The separation troubled you, and made you wonder if your conversation had dissuaded him from visiting you.  
In any case, you were busy enough as it was. Sam and Dean had finally elected to let you tag along on a hunt, and you were a bundle of nervous energy. You had bounced around the bunker for the past two days, packing and preparing everything you needed. The boys watched you in amusement.

“Don’t forget an air mattress.” Sam teased.

You glared at him, “Haha. This is my first hunt, is it so wrong to want to be prepared?”

For the first two days of the hunt, all you did was research and questioning, which dampened your spirits considerably. But soon enough, you and the boys figured out that your mystery monster was a Djinn. You pinpointed its location to a local abandoned factory, and on the third night of your stay, you moved in for the kill.

You were the first to come across the monster, but in your eagerness rushed at it too quickly, without waiting for Sam an Dean. The creature disarmed you quickly, and in one quick motion had its hand wrapped firmly around your throat.

As soon as you felt the calloused grip of the Djinn, the rumbling began. It was accompanied by a white light, and an ear piercing frequency, leaving you no doubt as to who it was. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced yourself for the fury of an archangel. The air around you seemed to shift, and the rumbling grew to a roar. You felt yourself being dropped to the floor, landing with a thud. The Djinn screeched in agony, then was quiet.

Tentatively, you opened your eyes.

The monster was laying before you in a gruesome state, evidence of Michael’s handiwork, but the angel himself was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, are you okay?!” came Dean’s frantic voice.

The boys rushed over to you immediately checking you over for injury.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You waved them away “And the Djinn’s dead, as you can see.”

“Oh crap.” Dean groaned.

“What?” Sam asked.

“The eyes, man.”

The creature’s eyes were bloody and hollow, burnt to a crisp.

Dean turned to you, “What, we got an angel on our ass now?”

“Archangel.” you muttered, without meeting his eyes, “They are tethered to prophets, even ones who aren’t technically prophesizing.”

“You’re talking as if you’ve met him.”Sam commented, brow furrowed in confusion.

You avoided both of the brothers’ gazes, as you struggled to find the courage to confess your secret. Even knowing that there was no turning back now, you still couldn’t summon the words.

“She has met him. Several times, in fact.” a familiar voice echoed from the back of the room.

It was Michael, back in his vessel, but still every inch the powerful celestial being that had brutally killed not minutes before. And he was pissed. Though this time you suspected that his anger was more or less directed at you

“Michael.” You breathed, “Why are you-“

“Do NOT speak to me right now.”his growl resonated around the room.

Shrinking significantly at the sound, you watched the angel in worry, guilt churning in your stomach. The angel turned to Sam and Dean, who watched the angel with trepidation. Sam tried for a diplomatic approach.

“Thank you, for saving her.” He began, “But why are you here now?”

“I should smite you where you stand.” Michael snarled, “That creature almost killed her.”

“Yeah, well that’s part of the job.” Dean said, glaring at the angel, “And she knows that! And why the hell-"

With a flutter of his wings, Michael placed himself in front of the brothers. A tap to their heads sent them both packing.

Michael turned to you, jaw clenched, and eyes fuming. Instinctively you shrank, irrationally hoping you would disappear from the angel’s gaze.

“You are a foolish girl.”

Your pride pricked quite a bit at that statement, but you before you could open your mouth to retort, Michael had swooped in, pinning you to the ground.

“How dare you take up hunting?!” he snapped viciously, “And with those two morons?! You’d get yourself killed before I could even get to you.”

It was terrifying seeing Michael in this state. It was a harsh reminder that your friend was a powerful being in his own right, and could crush you like a bug if he chose. Even knowing this, you couldn't fight the warm curl of arousal in your body that was elicited by the feel of Michael’s warm, hard body crushed against you. You resisted the urge to press closer to him, to seek more contact, even though you knew it was probably the worst time in the world for that.

Realizing that Michael was waiting for a reply, you weakly said, "Sorry."

The angel sighed in disgust, "Do have such low regard for your life that you would deliberately throw yourself in with those self destructive idiots?"

"Maybe I am a self destructive idiot!" you snapped.

"An idiot, yes." Michael agreed, "But please recall that you are my idiot."

You remained silent, avoiding the angel's gaze.

"Or do you need a reminder of that?" Michael asked softly.

Before you could react, the angel ducked his head, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He pressed himself closer to you, and grabbed your hands, placing them over your head. Now completely flat against the cold, stone floor, your legs were spread wide to accommodate Michael. Heat pooled in between your thighs, your arousal heightened by the submissive position.

Finally, the angel broke off from his assault on your mouth and traveled down to your neck, where he sucked and nibbled at the junction before your shoulder.

You moaned wantonly at the sensation, and instinctively rubbed yourself against Michael, seeking greater friction. Michael groaned lowly at that and you felt his hot breath waft over your neck.

“You’re mine, human.” He growled, grinding his growing bulge into your core, making you whimper with want.

Longing to feel his skin slide against yours, you tentatively asked, “Can you get rid of these clothes?”

With a snap, Michael banished them, leaving no barriers between the two of you. And before you could even register your nudity, Michael delved his fingers between your thighs, rubbing at your folds.

Moaning, you thrust up to meet them. In turn Michael dipped one digit into your opening, then added a second. He curled them, as if beckoning you, and hit your sweet spot.

“Oh!” you screamed.

Michael leaned forward, and captured one of your breasts with his mouth, teasing your nipple as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, while teasing your clit with his thumb. You were euphoric. Whimpering and moaning, you encouraged the angel’s ministrations with mutters of “yes”.

Finally, Michael pressed one thumb firmly on your clit and you were seeing stars. You screamed his name as you came, lifting your back off the floor.

Before you even came down from your high, Michael pressed into you. The sensation of being filled by his cock was overwhelming, and when he started to thrust in an out, you thought you would explode.

Michael was rough and possessive, but you would expect no less from an archangel. He placed his arms on either side of you, as he pounded in and out of you, bringing you dizzying pleasure. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, punctuated by heavy breathing and moans. It was pure, simple fucking. And you loved every second of it.

“You. Are. Mine.” Michael growled. He emphasized each word with deep thrusts that hit your sweet spot nicely.

“Yes!” you moaned.

Michael reached between your bodies, and gently circled your clit. The feeling was overwhelming and sent you closer to the edge.

“Michael, please.” You begged.

“Say you’re mine.”he murmured.

He slowed his pace, thrusting slowly now, teasing you. Pulling all the way out, he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your folds before plunging back in and resuming his slow pace. It left you a whimpering, panting mess and you felt unable to form words, much less a coherent sentence.

Bringing his face close to yours, Michael whispered, “Say it.”

“I-I’m yours.” You mumbled, your volume inhibited by the distracting pleasure he was giving you.

“Louder.”

“I’m yours!”

With that, Michael resumed his fast pace and your body sung with pleasure. Finally, Michael reached between your bodies and pressed your clit, sending you over the edge.  
You screamed the angel’s name as your walls clenched around his cock and you rode wave after wave of pleasure. Michael followed you soon after, thrusting a few more times as he spilled his seed into you.

For a few moments, nothing but the sound of your mingled heavy breaths filled the air, then Michael said, “You will let the Winchesters know that you are mine, under my protection, and you will cease hunting.”

“What?”

Michael met your confused gaze with a stern one, “I could summon them back here and tell them myself."

You swallowed, and to your shame felt tears prick at your eyes, “Michael, they’re like brothers to me. And this is, you know, the family business. I want to be a part of that.”

“Why?” the angel asked, seemingly genuinely confused.

“Because I don’t have a family other than them!” you burst out, “Because I got my last one killed, and because I need to feel like I have some purpose in this life.”

“You are a Prophet of the Lord.” Michael said softly, “Don’t ever doubt your purpose in this life.”

Your tears were now spilling over, “But what does that mean? I haven’t even dealt with any prophet crap yet. All I know is those demons came for me, and my family is gone because of it.”

Michael gathered you into his arms and held you close against his chest. You were grateful for the contact, even more so because you knew that this type of intimacy was not the archangel’s style.

He sighed and pressed his cheek to your hair, “I pity you humans at times. You struggle throughout your lives for a greater purpose, as you call it, only to find suffering and strife.”

You closed your eyes, his painfully accurate words hitting home.

“But that is not your fate.”he said firmly.

You didn't reply.

“Look at me.”

You met the angel’s eyes, taken aback by the strength and affirmation you found in them.

“That is not your fate.” Michael whispered, “And I will always be by your side. I will talk to the Winchesters with you, and we'll sort things out."

It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. His words comforted you in a way you didn’t know was possible, and in gratitude, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the angel’s lips.

“Thank you.” you breathed.

Michael grasped you tighter, and it felt as if he would never let go.


End file.
